


SG-Boys

by Abby_Ebon



Series: Bite Sized Bits of Fic [48]
Category: Gundam Wing, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erisabeisuu prompt: Stargate SG-1/Gundam Wing: SG-1 finding (either<br/>the things themselves or about them) the Gundams and a classic Jack reaction<br/>with Daniel, Duo and the rest along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SG-Boys

**Author's Note:**

> *This I think would best suit Stargate SG-1, season 9, episode 13: "Ripple Effect", and after Endless Waltz: Wing is Heero Yuy, Deathscythe Hell is Duo Maxwell, Heavyarms is Trowa Barton, Sandrock is Quatre Raberba Winner, Shenlong/ Altron is Chang Wufei: I don't see their Preventer names changing from the Gundam they were known for.*

Teal'c does not know all the facts of what has occurred, but the gist of it (as O'Neill explains over a hasty phone call) is this _–_ that the Chappa'ai has ceased to function as it should. It does not act in one way to take the team to another place, or in the other way to bring peoples of another place to them: instead, until it can be fixed, this Chappa'ai brings all other worlds' versions of themselves to them. Or that is how Teal'c understands it to be. That is until he is proven wrong, and understands just how wrong they all are before the rest of Stargate Command, because Teal'c sits in communication, watching through the window as the Chappa'ai does not close, golden chevrons gleaming, the iris trap closed tightly.

" _Preventers, this is Wing, incoming_." The phrase comes in short and clipped, every inch military. The voice though, is young, as young as his son Rya'c should be.

"W-what?" Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman stutters back.

" _Shake a leg people; we've got Replicators up our asses. Get that 'Gate open! Hell out_ …" Despite an otherwise dire message, that voice is just as young and oddly cheerful. As if it enjoying the danger.

Walter pauses to glance to General Landry, who frowns, and makes a gesture for the communication equipment, Walter gives him a thumb's up, and the General speaks.

"This is General Landry of Stargate Command, I'm sorry, but all Stargate activity is restricted to emergency status. There might not be a way to get you home if you come through." It's a warning delivered in a gentler voice then he would use regularly- against someone who didn't sound like children, it's caring. Walter shifts uncomfortably.

" _Sandrock speaking, you are understood: this is an emergency, repeat: request_ _immediate evacuation_." The last words are stressed, and there is a pause and a muffled but clearly pained cry.

" _Shit, get you're ass down Winner_!" A different boy's voice, Asian and abrupt: there is the _tap-tap-tap_ of repeated muffled automatic gunfire, then quiet and deliberately even breathing – the communication line had been forgotten, left switched 'on'. General Landry flinches, and makes a gesture to open the iris. He's obeyed without any hesitation, a sort of hope lingers in the air – that they haven't acted too late.

" _We are sitting ducks, General. Dead ducks._ _Get that 'Gate up and running, Stargate Command_." Manic cheer, that Teal'c does not know for genuine mad gladness, or forced. It's hushed, like a threat.

"You're clear to come through." General Landry says, eyes riveted on the Stargate. It's open and waiting.

" _Incoming_!" It's the only warning they get.

The first through is blond and bloody, he limps – but his feet hardly stumble, before two brunet boys have a hold of each of his arms over their shoulders. That they are the first though for a reason is obvious in holding their injured comrade, once they reach the end of the ramp, they lay him down and fire into the Chappa'ai at over-head height, reckless and mad as only the hopeful can be.

" _Go, go, go_!" Moving as one two boys hustle though, keeping their heads low. Where the three before had hair that was shoulder-short, these two have hair at least shoulder length, one is braided in auburn and brown, while the other is ponytailed and black. They don't pause to kneel down and shoot back into the Chappa'ai. They kneel closest to it, daring danger to meet them first.

" _That's a wrap, close her up_!" Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman doesn't need to be told twice, or at all, because the iris is already shutting.

The gunfire stops, all of a sudden, it's just silent as the grave. Over the air-waves, one of the boys sighs, turning around to face them – watching the watchers, a bit like a two way fish bowl. One boy waves, and then speaks.

" _Knock, knock_." It's the braided boy who's grinning. Teal'c is not surprised.

o.o.o

"Easy." Samantha Carter, in her green uniform – the only mark of her belonging to this universe and its world, warns the medical team that's on stand by before they make the approach. These boy-soldiers just came out of a battle, and though each is so very still and watchful, she would have a twitchy trigger finger. There is no question to the other four following their injured teammate, and if the bonds these boys share are anything to the likes of SG-1, she would not ask it of them. Swiftly, introductions are made.

"Quatre Raberba Winner, ma'am." The only blond boy gives her – another blond – an easy smile, winning as his name. It is tainted with the pain of his wound, into his face and in his eyes. He does his best to hide it.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Colonel Carter: what were you hit with?" She gets a good look at it, under the harsh lights of the med-bay and the thin white sheets stretched taunt over the bunks. It's a bleed as much as it's a burn. Quatre Winner really should not be conscious with that much pain. She doesn't know how he's doing it.

"I…uh…didn't see it?" Quatre flushes, as if that's something to be ashamed about. His flushed face brightens to a cherry red, and he looks to his team unhesitatingly – trusting, the boys that haven't parted from him. They take up out of the way positions, as if they've done all this before in a medical facility. It makes her uneasy, their ease.

"Heero Yuy." The messy brown haired boy with intent blue eyes nods to her before he says anything but his name, as if he's practicing his manners: or having a name. "Beam ray, Ori-Replicator modifications." Sam goes cold inside, chilled. She doesn't know how to treat this kind of wound, though her imagination runs with it: at a loss she reverts to what she knows, cleaning it up the best she can. None of the five say she's doing it wrong.

"How…?" Sam's grasping at straws, and knows it.

"So there isn't an Ori-Replicator alliance here?" Quatre sounds relived, and awed. Sam is only grateful she's never seen such a thing, and only shakes her head – she doesn't know how theses boys have survived, if they've been fighting such a force all this time.

o.o.o.o

"So, what's your world like?" Daniel Jackson asks, and really can't help himself. The boy he faces only blinks, eyes flicking to his friend, who sighs. It's clear that one of them is going to speak, and it won't be the one Daniel addressed to start with. These are the strangest teenagers Daniel has _ever_ been faced with – he and Mitchell are taking turns debriefing them. It would go smoother if – one – that friend of theirs hadn't been hurt bad enough to be isolated, and two – if, like normal teens, they wouldn't shut up. As is, it's getting to reply with more then a sentence that's the hard bit. The only one being remotely communicative is Duo.

"Do you have space colonies orbiting as we speak?" The braided boy, the end of his hair in hand, makes a circling motion with it. It's clear he means around _this_ Earth. They have space ships, and satellites, but space colonies? Daniel can only shake his head.

He cringes; the other breaks his staring to blink in something like disbelief.

"Well, ah, you see – we five? We were all born _in space_ , on space colonies, you see? The numbers, they sort of go along with that. I guess. I'm Duo Maxwell – and this is Trowa Barton, but we don't really – uh – _know_ what our birth names are. Records lost in space, you know? Numbers are easier." Duo's smile is charming, and his shrug makes it all seem harmless. Daniel only shakes his head; it's his turn not to believe them.

"If your world is so advanced to have space colonies, I highly doubt such things as your names could be _lost_." Anyone just having a baby in space, it's something Daniel can't see ever happening. He doesn't like it, either, the easy acceptance of their number-names, as if it's just the way it is.

"It's easier then you think." It's the first time Trowa Barton has spoken aloud, and he eyes the computer as if he knows how to do it. It sounds remarkably like a threat.

"Yah, yah, mad scientist – uh – so, the Replicators here, have they gotten a hold of the Gundams?" There is something like lust, longing, and love in Duo's word, Gundam. Trowa stirs, sitting up and paying attention – this, Daniel realizes, is important.

"What is a Gundam?" Is all Daniel Jackson can say, feeling at once clueless and helpless – and that just isn't supposed to happen to him.

"A mech out of _gundanium_ alloy…." Duo can very clearly see that Daniel has no idea what he's talking about. He groans aloud, shaking his head as if it's helpless and essential.

o.o.o.o.o

"So, we can't go home." Wufei sums it up.

"Right…." Colonel Cameron Mitchell would have rather that everyone got back to their own home worlds, but it just isn't possible for the "SG-Boys" as SG team leaders are referring to the five. It would take all the energy of a ZPM: because, Sam says, _their_ dimension is so very different from here. Mitchell doesn't know what the difference is between a different version of their reality, and a different dimension is, entirely – but it's the boy's bad luck to end up here.

"So, about that _gundanium_ alloy on PX7-455…"

Or, rather, _his_ bad luck.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"So, what do you think?" Duo Maxwell drawls down to General Jack O'Neill who has been looking, up and _up_ for so long he might be getting a crick in his neck. There had been an announcement, and a speech, and Jack had said some fine things to important people – and some reassuring ones to Stargate Command, where it mattered most. This, though, was his first real look at what the kids had been cooking up in the basement – so to speak.

There was only two so far, but there would be more. Three more, as a matter of fact – and then a series of mechs for SG teams to train with: but these? These two were for the SG-Boys, Heero Yuy (who Duo joked was molesting his Wing, and Jack didn't doubt it – he hadn't come out of the control station yet) and Duo Maxwell's Deathscythe which, to his eyes looked very much like the winged angel of Death.

"You're sure you can pilot this?" Jack asks, not doubting it, but thinking on all the things – dangerous and useful – that Duo could do. Not all of them reassuring.

"Like riding a bike, boss." Duo winks, his grin gaping like a skeleton.

Jack's is equally devious.


End file.
